The Beginning Is The End
by Lulubelle192
Summary: "I'm fighting for you Ziva" What happened after the olive grove and before the airport at the end of 11.02 "Past, Present and Future"? A one-shot tying up a few loose ends.


**Author's Note And Disclaimer: Though I read a lot of NCIS fanfiction this is the first time I have submitted a story of my own and the first time I have written anything longer than an email since I left school, so please be kind. This is essentially something I wrote as a cathartic exercise following the transmission of "Past, Present & Future". I wanted to know how an almost distraught, bearded Tony could be "fighting for Ziva" one moment and then clean shaven and accepting of Ziva's decision the next. What happened after they left the olive grove and before they arrived at the airport? This is what I came up with. I've opted for US spellings where appropriate and**** my apologies for any unintentional English'isms**. Also apologies to anyone who thinks that Tony and Ziva are acting OOC, I was trying to write them in the context of the televised scenes and not necessarily how I personally would expect them to behave.  


**I own nothing to do with these characters, I mean no harm and am just borrowing them to tie up a few loose ends. Indeed if I did own them, Tony would have kept the beard!**

"_I'm fighting for you Ziva"_

"_I know"_

Tony felt Ziva's hands caressing his face, her fingers stroking his hair, his cheek touching her cheek. He wondered for a second if his fledgling beard was prickling her soft skin, he almost smiled at the thought but then he was lost in the wonder of her lips brushing his, her mouth finding his mouth, the fulfillment of so many years' desire.

Tony closed his eyes, smelling the fresh scent of Ziva's hair, feeling her soft breath against his skin. He'd really found her, this wasn't a dream, after all those months of searching she was finally here, her warm body in his arms, his heart ached for her. Please Ziva he thought desperately, please don't make me let you go.

**XXXXXXXXX**

Tony was never quite sure how they got back from the olive grove, but here he was several days later watching Ziva preparing the salad of items they had purchased at the local market. A myriad collection of colorful fruits and vegetables many of which Tony would have been hard pressed to name. For a moment Tony smiled caught up in the normalcy of the moment. But beneath the facade he knew there was nothing normal about this. This was their last night. Early that morning Ziva had come into his room, the larger of the three bedrooms, Ziva preferring the familiarity of her old small room. Placing a hot mug of steaming coffee on the bedside table, Ziva had sat on the edge of his bed, her hair loose, still wet from her morning shower and before she had said a word he knew that she had come to her decision.

"Tony, tonight will be our last night. Tomorrow we need to return to Tel Aviv and ... and you must return to DC."

Tony swallowed hard, fighting the lump that had appeared in his throat, the sting in his eyes. She had said 'you', not 'we'. Despite their lack of conversation concerning her future, over the last few days Tony had let himself hope, let himself dare to believe that following their shared moment in the olive grove that she might, just might come back with him. "What about ... ? Couldn't we ...?" Tony's voice broke on the words he couldn't say, knew were pointless. He could see the determination in her eyes, there would be no going back. Shaking her head she reached a finger to his lips, silencing any further protest. Looking into her moist eyes, Tony could see his own pain reflected in hers.

"Do not be long, breakfast is nearly ready" and with a weak smile Ziva turned walking out of the room, closing the door behind her and on any future Tony might have thought they could have together.

Left alone, early morning shafts of light painting patterns on the ceiling, Tony turned his face into the softness of his pillow and for the first time since Paula's death, gave in to his own despair, and he had wept.

******XXXXXXXXX**

After breakfast they had spent the rest of the morning clearing up the house, packing the small number of items Ziva had brought with her. Then in the afternoon Ziva shared some of her earliest memories with him, showing him her childhood haunts - she had been happy here before life and Mossad got in the way, before Eli moved his family to the city apartment. At the local market Ziva bought a few provisions, fruit, a bottle of wine and Tony picked up a few souvenirs. Perhaps a tiny carved animal, Tony couldn't quite deduce what it was - a dog, a horse maybe, might bring a smile to Abby's face when he next saw her, when he broke the news that Ziva would not be returning. And for a few short hours Tony saw a happy, unburdened Ziva, and he let his mind wander with thoughts of what might have been.

******XXXXXXXXX**

They ate their meal in companionable silence, each deep in their own thoughts, until now sitting with a glass of the local wine, with the sun setting, a warm glow permeating the room, Tony finally found the courage to voice the words that would spell the end of the fantasy, would bring them both back to the reality that this was not the beginning of something wonderful, but the end of something that had never even had a chance to begin.

"So what happens next?"

"Next?" Ziva looked surprised. "Tony, I have already said, you..."

"No, not me, you. What's next for you? You're surely not staying in Israel?"

"Oh, no, I am not. First, I want to travel. I want to go to Europe, and then maybe further afield. I want to be a...a tourist," she smiled, "not an assassin, or an agent hiding out undercover in back streets and dark alleys. And then after that, who knows. I have many languages, maybe I would like to teach."

"Give something back" he murmured. He could just imagine her with a classroom full of children, hanging on her every word. He remembered the night they minded Vance's children, a happy memory.

"Exactly," she said, thoughtfully.

"You will stay in touch." It was not a question.

She looked up from her thoughts, her brow furrowing. "Tony, I have said, I need to break away..."

"No!" he said, angrily interrupting her, noisily pushing back his chair and coming to stand alongside her "you cannot just disappear again, I respect your need to do this alone, but you cannot expect me to go on not knowing if you're...if you're a...if you're okay," he finally managed to finish.

Recognizing his distress Ziva finally relented, "All right, whenever I arrive in a new city, I will send you a postcard." Seeing he was about to protest, Ziva raised her hand, "Tony, I am sorry, that is the best I can offer."

Running his hands through his hair Tony breathed deeply, trying to calm the emotions that were threatening to engulf him. Blinking back the sting of tears, Tony sank on to the sofa and through pursed lips finally whispered his agreement, "Okay."

"But on one condition..." Tony looked up to see Ziva, now standing in front of him a thoughtful expression on her face. "I will send postcards on the condition that you buy a new bed."

"What?" he stammered, where had that come from. "Why? I like my bed, it's...comfy," he complained.

"Firstly, I do not believe a bed that small, can be at all comfortable for a man of your...height" she teased. "But more importantly," her voice taking on a serious tone "it is symbolic of your lack of commitment. And ... I do not want you to wait for me." Again she held up her hand to forestall his protest. "I may be gone a very long time and who knows what will happen in the future. You have to go on with your life. Promise me you will not close your heart to the possibility of love."

"Ziva, I..."

"Tony, please, promise me. I need to know that you will be okay, otherwise I might just be tempted to come back with you..." Seeing the momentary look of hope flitter across his face, Ziva hurriedly continued, "and that would be a mistake, if I come back with you now there would be no chance for...us. Please believe me."

When Tony remained silent, Ziva sat down on the sofa beside him, taking his hand in hers. "Tony?"

Looking up and letting out a shaky breath, Tony attempted the nearest thing to a smile he could manage. "Okay, I promise I will buy a new bed, the rest, I can't promise," this time it was Tony's turn to raise his hand, halting Ziva's words, "but I promise, I will try."

At least partially satisfied by his response, Ziva nodded, preparing to stand. "Stay...just a little longer," Tony said, grabbing hold of her arm to stay her departure. With his other hand he tucked a strand of Ziva's hair behind her ear, before cupping her face in his hand, leaning in and softly kissing her cheek. For a moment Ziva hesitated and Tony thought she was going to pull away, but then she relaxed, responding with her lips on his cheek, on his lips. His mouth found hers and he pulled her closer. Aware of where this could be leading Tony felt Ziva hesitate "Tony, are you sure, this is our last night, I do not want to make this any harder."

"I'm sure, but only if you are," he looked down at her, his eyes questioning, her head cradled in his broad hand.

"Yes," she breathed, "I am quite sure." And with that Tony scooped her into his arms, lifting her from the sofa and making for his bedroom. "No, not that room," she pointed towards another door. "That one...no memories." He nodded his understanding and walked across the hall. As they crossed the threshold Tony could have sworn he heard Ziva giggle. "Then let's create some memories," he said, before allowing her to kick the door closed with her feet.

**XXXXXXXXX**

Several hours later Tony lay with a sleeping Ziva in his arms. Her warm body nestled into his. Light was beginning to creep into the room and his thoughts drifted unbidden to the day that lay ahead. With the dawn something had shifted within him, a new resolution had come over him. For better or for worse Ziva had made her decision, he had to live with it, she was moving on without him and he had no choice but to move on too. He was done crying. In a few hours he would rise, he would shower and for the first time in several days he would shave. On arrival at the airport he would buy the most expensive designer shirt he could lay his hands on and he would once again assume the persona of Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. He would get on the plane and return home. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but somehow in his heart he knew that whatever the future held in store for them, they would be okay. For now though he was content to lie there, basking in the warmth of her body, her cheek resting against his arm. "I love you, Ziva" he whispered, lightly kissing the top of her head. And in his arms, Ziva smiled.


End file.
